


And The Cold Will Numb Me No More

by yuma (yuma_writes)



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, POV First Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-10-29
Updated: 2004-10-29
Packaged: 2018-10-07 02:49:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10350735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yuma_writes/pseuds/yuma
Summary: SPOILERS : Thor’s Hammer, COTG, HathorSUMMARY : Lonliness manifests...





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Yuma, the archivist: this work was originally archived at [Stargatefan.com](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Stargatefan.com). To preserve the archive, we began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [StargateFan Archive Collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/StargateFan_Archive_Collection).

Stargate SG-1 | Gen Fanfiction | And The Cold Will Numb Me No More

It’s easier to stay cold than it is to stay warm. 

I just have to let myself drift and it comes without so much as a beckon. Like a mother’s arms, it wraps around me, my heart, and lets everything touching me freeze, shatter and disappear.

Sometimes...I wonder if death is that way.

I mean, I’ve taunted death so many times. You would think it would be lurking by the wings, backstage of this performance called my life, waiting to wrap around me to take me away permanently. 

How many times was I cold?

How many times did I sink into this realm of white, nothingness?

To quote someone famous...let me count the ways.

I guess the first time I felt cold was standing in the playground, not understanding why they mocked me. Perhaps the teachers shouldn’t have repeated with pride that I could speak different languages already at a tender age of five. I don’t know why they were proud. It wasn’t like they had anything to do with it. If anyone had the right to boast, it would be my parents who gave me my thirst for words before I understood the gift of it. 

So what did I do?

I ignored the gibberish the children threw at me, words they made up but had the same meaning of spite and scorn. I just imagined a nice place where there was nothing. I think I pictured Siberia. Father showed me a picture one time, telling me about places they were to go but regretted he couldn’t take us there. I think it was something political at that time. So Siberia, the place I’ve never been, was the place I hid. This cold place my father told me was vast, huge. No one could enter.

And all the mean voices disappeared.

It became my secret place, for all the times I couldn’t run to my mother and tell her my miseries because I didn’t want to see that sad look of regret on her face for the wondrous, wandering life they led. It became mine, coming when I sat at a corner with my books. It waited patiently at night when I was too confused to cry. 

I went back to that cold place after the funeral.

It was no longer Siberia by then. I think in my mind, I just needed a name, so I called it There. That’s all it was. It was _There_. _There_ was cold. _There_ was nothingness. _There_ was where I could go and not hear the whispering around me about who would take care of me now. In that place, the land called _There_ , I took care of myself, and ice sculptures of my parents surrounded me, letting no one harm me. 

_There_.

It feels like I’m there right now.

_"Come on...don’t do this..."_

But...I could have sworn I had no occupants in my haven called _There_ , except for me.

_"Help me pull him out..."_

It’s so cold. 

Something must have happened to make me return.

_"Damn it, Jackson! Come on!"_

White, white sky. 

White, white surface.

Maybe it’s not that it’s white. Maybe...there’s just nothing there.

_"Sir! I can’t hold onto him!"_

"Give me a hand with him! Goddamn it! Don’t you do this! Don’t you dare do this to us!"

Someone sounds angry. Maybe that’s why I’m here. In the place called _There_.

It grew over the years, from the blank land of snow and ice, to igloos I saw pictures of in the National Geographic. Going from one foster home to another, I couldn’t stand the thought of trying to be happy in their sympathy only to lose them again, so I concentrated on building my _There_.

There’s a garden now. A small one, outside the door, with ice carved into flowers which wouldn’t make me ill, statues of people who cared for me but were taken away, and a frozen lake in its center where the ice was so clear, I could see my young reflection in it. I had a few rooms inside my structure. I made it to look like a house where we once stayed when father had to work for a museum for almost half a year. Every room had a lock and only I had the key. Inside them were the voices of things I didn’t like, the things that pricked my heart, locked away from my soul, in this place called _There_ where they would never bother me again.

_"His clothes are wet. I need a blanket here. Daniel? Come on, Jackson! Come back to us!"_

There’s something running around. Perhaps I didn’t lock this one yet. But it doesn’t sound too bad.

Just angry.

But angry voices were nothing new.

Professor Jameson was angry when I raised my hand and corrected his Latin translation. Was it my fault he missed one word? I tried to tell him discreetly, by telling him at the beginning of the class, but he wouldn’t hear it. So I had to say something before he went on to the next translation and threw the class completely off. And I asked him in a question. I definitely tried not to sound arrogant, but he roared at me. He yelled at me, saying how dare you. How dare a young pup who should have been in high school rather than his Ivy League university come up to him and tell him that he, a professor here for fifteen years, was wrong?

I was labeled a troublemaker.

That meant more counselors who decided the root of my problem was the death of my parents and the upheaval of a steady home. 

Blah blah blah.

Why does everything have to have a source that far back? Why does sixteen mean I don’t know what I’m talking about? And automatically labels me as trouble?

It hurt.

At least...it would have.

If I didn’t have this place called _There_.

It’s at least three stories now. Springing from a cabin to this huge building during my college years.

So many rooms. So many bad things.

I mustn’t lose the key.

Because then, I wouldn’t be able to lock any more up.

And that would be bad.

_"I can’t get a pulse!"_

"God, no..."

Just before Catherine Langford came to me, after my respected peers laughed in my face and walked out, I went back to that place and saw it had become a castle. It had a moat with spikes of ice shards sticking out, the garden now a maze so even I couldn’t find my comforts, and rooms spanning into the thousands. Many already filled.

And then I realized just how cold that place was. My secret place called _There_.

It didn’t seem so nice any more. Not when there was so much to lock up.

Catherine offered me a way out of the cold, a way to let go some of my prisoners in the land called _There_.

I accepted.

I had nothing to lose. Because I had already lost everything.

And then I met Jack.

God, it’s so cold here.

_"Danny...don’t do this...don’t give up on us..."_

I think he looked like my place called _There_. Walking with the cold on his shoulders, the chill whispering into his ears like a Devil’s advocate. I didn’t know why until later on when he told me about his kid. His son.

He lost something too.

Suddenly, he didn’t seem so...cold.

_"Get that dialed up!"_

"It has been frozen over again!"

"Just get that goddamn thing working!"

Sha’uri.

She took my key.

Threw it away in the hot sands of Abydos. Warmed me up with her dark endless eyes that held fire for me.

My haven started to melt away, dissolving all my prisoners. There...that place was no more.

It felt like starting over all over again. Her hands were so warm. Her hair...so soft. Everything about her said warmth, sun, and life.

_  
_

The walls of my castle eroded.

The way she called my name. Dan-yer. Never getting it quite right. And she tried, but I told her, I much preferred her way of saying it. It sounded like the most important thing in the world in her voice. And she told me it was.

The moat melted into a clear blue river.

And her name. I thought I was happy trying to communicate "Bane wa" to Kasuf in the beginning. But then this heaven covered in flimsy clothes came up to me, dropped her robes and offered herself to me. After the failure to explain that she didn’t need to do this, I tried introducing myself. I pointed to myself and said Daniel. When it departed her lips, my name had meaning. 

And then...she said her name.

Sha’uri.

My frozen garden of ice statues turned to leafy green. 

And my key...suddenly disappeared.

That year...I never needed to go back to that place, my hiding place called _There_. She understood my chills, kissed away my fears, and all I needed to comfort myself was the thought of the future and bury myself in her rich cascade of hair.

Well...

The future came.

And she was gone.

And my castle returned, complete with towers, moats, and barricades.

It became so cold again. So cold. When Jack took me back to his place, that first night I returned, I couldn’t stop shaking. My arms wrapped themselves around my body and I couldn’t stop shaking. 

My cold place never left afterwards. And my key was stabbed straight through my heart.

_"Is it working?"_

"N-no, sir. The crystal’s too damaged. I’m trying..."

"Well, try harder!"

But...something was different after that. I’m not sure what. With all that happened, I’m surprised I wasn’t wandering the sterile halls of ice more often. I wonder why...

_"We’re losing him!"_

Cold. Cold. Cold. My fingers are hardening to sticks of ice, easy to snap off with a touch. My eyes are frozen shut, but I can still see the white shining against my eyelids.

Sam.

I wonder if she ever needed to go somewhere, when the words got too harsh. Probably not. She always seemed to be able to climb out of anything. She always had a smile for me when I lost mine. I was so scared when she and Jack didn’t come back with us after the Stargate malfunctioned. When I woke up and Teal’c told me they weren’t behind us, I felt my cold place howling for me to return.

But I couldn’t.

I needed to find them

Because I knew they weren’t dead.

They wouldn’t do that to me. 

Even if they never said that out loud.

I just...knew.

And they were alive.

Ironically, in a cold place that rivaled mine. But alive.

Teal’c.

Sometimes he frightens me. 

The man just emulates power. Everything that I am not. 

He had strength. 

He had power from his soul.

And his eyes see everything simple, not complicated.

I lost that somewhere down the line when I was trying to find Sha’uri.

_"Sir...sir! It’s...it’s too late...he’s g-gone."_

Over the months, almost a year now, as she felt farther and farther away, I lost that.

But Teal’c didn’t.

So in a way, I still had mine.

When Jack gave me that staff weapon and told me to go destroy the Hammer, I wanted to go back to that cold place. Any place where I wouldn’t have to watch my only chance to regain Sha’uri back the way she was destroyed by my hands.

Why did he give **me** the staff weapon?

Why?

I didn’t know then, but I know now. It was choices. 

I think Jack always knew about my cold place. How I like to go there when it becomes too hard. So instead of me slipping into that as someone else did it, he gave me the choice. He gave me the power.

Teal’c...there was really no choice at all.

I fired the weapon.

I mean, at least we know that it works, right? It means there are things out there that will work again for her. 

_"No! I won’t accept that! Come on, Jackson! I won’t allow this!"_

"Sir!"

"O’Neill!"

It’s so cold here. It actually hurts.

Strange.

That never happened before.

I haven’t really gone there in a while. Maybe I’m just not use to it any more. 

It’s true.

I’ve seen, experienced far worse since I was with SG-1, but...I had seen no need to return to that place. Something always countered it. 

No...I did go back...once.

Hath-

She wasn’t very nice.

But I thought she was...in the beginning. Until-

She made me do things.

Code of life she called it.

Made me betray my kind is the way I called it. Painted blood all over my soul when she created her monsters with **my** DNA.

After she took me, made me do things that would have me screaming for many nights after that, I sat there, on a bed that reeking of my sins and went back.

I had forgotten how many prisoners I had here. And how cold it was.

Later on, standing there, watching Janet and Sam scraping the evidence of my betrayal of Sha’uri and my people off the tiles, I blurted out it was probably my DNA. Then, it hit me.

God...what had I done?

_"Sir! Sir! P-please...s-stop it...there’s nothing else-"_

"Let go of me!"

"O’Neill! He is gone!"

"No! He’s not! Let...go...of...me!"

Jack didn’t say anything, but he took me by the elbow, drove me back to his place without asking, steered me to the sofa, and handed me a cup of coffee.

I drank the whole thing down in one gulp, burning my tongue. 

He asked, I told, and then...it became cold.

So very cold.

I was...no...I **am** cold.

_  
_

"Danny...come on...can you just listen to my orders for once? Just once?"

But...he made it better. He didn’t scorn me. He didn’t yell at me.

He just let me cry there.

Without judgement.

And I woke up the next morning, blanket tucked securely around me, him snoring on the opposite chair.

And I wasn’t cold.

Never had to go back to the place I called _There_.

I...I don’t want to stay at this place no more. 

It’s too cold.

I don’t need this place any more.

It’s too cold.

_  
_

"Daniel?"

"Sir?"

"I’m...I’m getting something..."

I want to go home.

_  
_

"Daniel?"

I want to go home.

_  
_

"Daniel Jackson."

It’s too cold here.

_  
_

"Danny..."

There’s another place I can go now. I don’t need here any more...

~O~

It’s still cold.

But...it feels different.

"Come on, Daniel. You’ve been sleeping long enough."

Have I? Sorry, Jack.

I feel something tapping at my cheek, like a woodpecker. 

Tap tap.

Tap tap.

I tried to shoo it off and discovered I couldn’t move my hands.

"Keep still. We got you bundled up pretty tight."

Must you?

What happened?

"You fell in the ice river flow. Nearly got pulled under. We tracked you for a few feet before Teal’c was able to fish you out."

Oh. I must have asked that out loud.

Jack’s voice cracked. It sounded hoarse. Like he had been shouting.

"Really had us going there, Jackson."

Uh oh. I guess it was...bad.

"You got that right."

I must be deaf. I can’t hear myself when I’m speaking out loud.

"Just lie still. Carter’s almost got the doohickey fixed. Damn lightning shattered the crystal."

DHD, Jack. DHD.

I opened my eyes and saw black cloth pressed on my cheek. Everything else was silver and olive green. I feel buried. Help...

"Damn it, Jackson! Hold still!"

Can’t breathe here. Let me out. Let me out. I don’t want to go back to that cold place again.

Jack sighed. "Hang on. Just hold on. Give me a sec, will ya?"

The green and silver went away a little and I could see...

White.

Oh God.

"Calm down. Calm down." Jack must be near. No. He must be holding on to me because I could feel arms around me tightening even under these layers of clothing piled on top of me. The black cloth shifted and wrinkled under my cheekbone, and I realized I was pressed up against the hollow of his shoulder. I can see his throat from down here. "We’re in a tent. We set it up near the Stargate while Carter’s fixing the DHD."

Snow.

"Yeah. Storm’s still going."

Cold.

"I know."

So cold. I don’t like being cold any more.

"I know. I know. Just...just hang on...don’t go anywhere. Okay?"

Don’t want to. I want to stay here. 

Jack laughed. "I hope you’re not talking about this lovely ice planet called P8J6753, Jackson."

Nooo.

"We’re almost home."

Home.

How nice that sounds.

No matter what happens next, or later on. No matter how bad. I don’t need to go back to that place any more. 

Because I don’t like the cold any more. 

They’re here. It’s okay to stay where I am.

"O’Neill, the Stargate is open."

Hi, Teal’c.

I felt a hand on my head. Icicles from my hair fell on my nose. Jack wiped them away with his glove.

"I am pleased to see you are awake, Daniel Jackson." He came closer, and I can almost see him. "I was quite...concerned before."

Oh. That bad, huh?

"Sir? We’re ready to go now."

Hi Sam.

"Hey, Daniel."

Another hand on my head. Why does everyone likes playing with my hair? It must be so frozen right now.

"Let’s go, kids. He’s feeling a little like a Popsicle."

Ha ha, Jack.

I can hear everyone leaving. I can hear Jack whispering that he’ll carry me. Something’s wrong.

"J-jack?" Thank God. I can hear my voice again.

"Take it easy, Daniel. We’re going to get you home."

No...wait...

I weave one hand out to grab his jacket. I was shocked to see my nails. They’re black. God, how long was I under the water?

"What is it?"

Jack sounded so tired.

"Wh’t...wrong?" I can’t get my tongue to work right. Everything sounds...funny.

"What?"

"W-what...w-wrong?" I coughed, and he slipped one arm under my knees, another behind my shoulders. No, wait, I’m not finished yet. I yank harder, and he sighed.

"It was bad. Okay, Danny? It was bad."

I hear the Stargate come to life outside and Sam shouting for us to go.

"D-died?"

Jack swallowed. I could see his Adam’s apple bob up and down. 

"Yeah." He looked down at me, and I saw red eyes. "Twice."

Oh.

"But you stayed." He smiled, and I knew that it was okay.

"Don’t want to g-go anywhere." My teeth are chattering too hard.

Jack seemed to understand anyway, and he nodded as he lifted me up. It felt like I was flying. I was still cold. But...

I’m not going back.

I don’t need it any more.

I have something else instead.

"Don’t w-want the key any m-more." I muttered. I feel so tired.

"Huh?" He didn’t understand. But it’s okay. I’ll tell him someday.

"H-home."

Jack smiled. I can barely see him with my eyes half closed.

"Yeah. Home." And he carried me of the tent.

The wind blasted around me and I shivered as I drifted away. I can feel myself sleeping, floating as arms tighten around me, keeping me warm. But it wasn’t enough. I’m still cold.

But it’s okay.

Because when I wake up. I won’t be any more.

I’m not going back there.

Ever.

I see the Stargate looming over me, and I feel that cold castle of mine beckoning me. Telling me how I can lock everything away again.

I don’t want to any more.

Goodbye. 

As we step through the Stargate, my last thought is I am going home.

I won’t be cold any more.

**The End**

* * *

> © 1999 The characters mentioned in this   
>  story are the property of Showtime and Gekko Film Corp. The Stargate, SG-I,   
>  the Goa'uld and all other characters who have appeared in the series STARGATE   
>  SG-1 together with the names, titles and backstory are the sole copyright   
>  property of MGM-UA Worldwide Television, Gekko Film Corp, Glassner/Wright   
>  Double Secret Productions and Stargate SG-I Prod. Ltd. Partnership. This   
>  fanfic is not intended as an infringement upon those rights and solely meant   
>  for entertainment. All other characters, the story idea and the story itself   
>  are the sole property of the author. 

* * *

  



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